


Atlantis Santa

by MistressKat



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Christmas, Community: sga_santa, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-04
Updated: 2010-03-04
Packaged: 2017-10-07 17:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/67508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressKat/pseuds/MistressKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Secret Santa gift exchange at Atlantis causes Rodney and Radek some headache. Not to mention that weird fluttery feeling somewhere low in the abdominal region.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Atlantis Santa

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cinaed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/gifts).



> For the 06 [sga_santa](http://community.livejournal.com/sga_santa/) exchange on LJ. Beta by [Trialia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Trialia) and [dark_cygnet](http://dark-cygnet.livejournal.com/).

Rodney stared at the slip of paper in his hand.

This was awful.

He refolded it into a tiny square, squeezed it tightly in his fist and wished fervently. Screw the science; if blind superstition would get him out of this then someone go ahead and point him to the goats and rattles – he’d take his chances.

After ten seconds of repeating the mantra of ‘please change, please change, please change’ (silently, because really, his dignity did not need any more knocks this year) Rodney loosened his grip and smoothed the paper open.

Well, he never thought it would _really_ work.

Rodney read the text again and again came to the same conclusion. It was impossible. It was undoable. It was not going to happen. He cast a furtive glance towards the end of the room where people were waiting for their turn, good-humouredly jostling and laughing while the line moved slowly past a wide basket on the side table. Maybe if he just…

“Don’t even think about it, Rodney. No swapping.” Sheppard leaned closer, not so subtly trying to get a glimpse of what was written on the paper in Rodney’s hand.

“Who’d you get anyway? It can’t be that bad.”

“Yes it can. And no, I’m not saying.” He quickly shoved the note into his pocket, huffed at Sheppard who was grinning like a three-year-old and stalked out of the door.

Rodney had better things to do than stand around and waste time. He had Ancient technology to investigate, laws of physics to rewrite, reports to criticise, scientists to whip into obedience. And, it appeared, two weeks to come up with a Christmas present for one Radek Zelenka.

 

***

   
Radek stared at the paper in his hand.

This was great. He couldn’t believe his luck. He’d expected someone difficult to figure out, someone he didn’t know or like but this… Radek read the name on the paper again. This was… what was that idiom again? _Slice of pie._

With a satisfied smile Radek folded the note neatly, dropped it into his breast pocket and followed a group of chattering biologists out of the room. He knew exactly what to get Rodney McKay for Christmas.

 

***

 

The Secret Santa game had been Major Lorne’s idea but no sooner had the words left his mouth than they were seized by most of Atlantis with an almost zealous elation known only to those who’ve had very little to be jubilant about.

Elizabeth gave the scheme her blessing with a smile and a gracious nod of her head.

While the running around irritated and baffled Rodney to no end, the thing that he found truly annoying was that all of it was happening in September.

Of course in Atlantis it made perfect sense to hold a Secret Santa lottery three months before… well, it wasn’t exactly Christmas; the calendars didn’t quite match and of course a third of Atlantis didn’t celebrate Christmas in the first place. Nevertheless, they had decided to hold some sort of mid-winter festivity, and really, everyone could call it whatever they wanted.

The lure of presents and innocent secrets, however, seemed to be universal. Daedalus was due to leave for the last supply run of the year in a week. It would be back in time for the holidays, filled to rafters with shiny new guns for the military and shiny new computers for the scientists – and presumably all the goodies people would think to ask for.

 

***

 

“You want me to do _what_?” Dr. Heightmeyer’s face was a picture of incredulity and professional affront.

“Please. Your recommendation would carry a lot of weight. If you said that Rodney needed to have one--”

“But he _doesn’t_! Rodney’s been functioning normal-- perfectly well on his own. I cannot imply that he needs some sort of… emotional crutch. That would be completely unethical, and quite frankly Radek, I’m shocked you’re asking me to do this.” Kate crossed her arms and leaned back with an expression that brooked no argument. Her piercing eyes nailed him to the chair.

Radek sighed and ran a hand through his hair. This was not going well. Heightmeyer was clearly not going to do anything except sit and stare unless he provided some sort of explanation to his request. He’d really hoped not to have to do that; the look on Dr. Novak’s face had been bad enough.

“Kate.” He attempted a charming smile in her direction. Fifteen years ago it had wreaked havoc among undergraduates at the Prague University but judging by her arched eyebrows Dr. Heightmeyer was made of sterner stuff. Well, fifteen years was a long time and Radek had had very little use for charm since those days.

“Of course Rodney doesn’t _need_ it but…” He dug a note with Rodney’s name on from his pocket and showed it to her. For some reason, he’d gotten into a habit of carrying it around.

“It’s for his Christmas present.” Radek clarified as the psychologist just looked at the piece of paper without taking it.

“I see.”

“I mean, it’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“Does he talk about it a lot then?” Kate’s expression showed nothing but neutral curiosity.

“He… no, not really.”

“But he has mentioned it to you?”

“Well…” Now that Radek thought about he couldn’t remember Rodney ever saying anything about it directly to him.

Heightmeyer was regarding him in silence, making Radek squirm like he hadn’t since he was twelve and sent to the headmistress of the school for appropriating some of the craftwork tools for is own project. This was ridiculous, why was the woman looking at him like that? He was trying to do a _nice_ thing here…

“Please, Kate.” He gave another shot at smiling. “Knowing what to get him was the easy part. It’s just that the actual _getting_ seems to be more complicated than I originally thought.”

“I don’t know Radek…” She was wavering, her fingers tapping at the table.

“Please? Are there not studies on this? I thought the benefits were well documented…?” Not that Radek placed much credence on soft science research, but unlike some people, he knew better than to advertise it too loudly. The anthropology department were good at squirreling away all sorts of questionable entertainment and generous at sharing it. More to the point, he’d once walked in on Dr. Heightmeyer arguing non-metric multidimensional scaling with one of the statisticians and he had no to desire repeat the experience from a more personal perspective.

Kate was nodding slowly, “Yes, yes, of course.” Being able to justify her choice with scientific references seemed to clinch the deal. “Let me just…” She loaded up three separate databases, her laptop whining reproachfully.

Radek leaned back in his seat. This was going to work after all.

 

***

 

Rodney had not come up with anything to add to the Daedalus’ ‘wish list’ so instead of concentrating on something important and Nobel-facilitating like, say, _work_, he spent the next three months stalking Zelenka.

He didn’t even feel bad about it. Careful observation was the key of good science, and it’s not like he was really bothering Radek. He’d picked quite a bit of watching Ronon skulk around corridors and a bewildering variety of indigenous vegetation, and was therefore able to discover a surprising amount of information about Radek Zelenka without him being any the wiser.

For example, Rodney found out that Radek liked to have a flaky Athosian pastry with icing for breakfast and a cup of tea with the minimum of three spoonfuls of sugar in it. Apparently he had a sweet tooth to rival Rodney’s own and some of the concoctions he created from the modest dessert options available made even Rodney’s stomach reel.

Also, for some reason, everyone wanted to confide in him. Rodney had no idea how Radek got any work done at all, with everyone in Atlantis drifting in and out of his office, determined to share tales of professional and personal woe. The amount of tradable goods a person could acquire with so much blackmail material at their disposal was truly staggering and it pained Rodney on some deeply fundamental level to witness Radek do nothing about it.

Eventually Rodney figured out that people simply gave Radek whatever he appeared to require, dropping off Battlestar Galactica downloads and little packets of mint tea and spare memory sticks like that sort of thing grew on trees. Well, the mint probably did, but that was not the point.

More important by far was the fact that Rodney was feeling distinctly… jealous. Not of the BSG downloads – although he did desperately want to know what Six was wearing in season three – but of the time and attention Radek was devoting to people who were not him.

It was… unsettling.

In addition to that, he discovered that watching Radek lick pastry crumbs from his fingers caused a strange fluttering sensation somewhere low in his belly that had an annoying tendency to linger for hours and mess with his concentration.

Quite a lot about Radek Zelenka seemed to have that effect on him.

When Rodney was in the middle of something important, solving a problem, building a bomb, whatever, he spread outwards, all sweeping movements and long words, hands flying as he rushed and shouted and just filled every space available. Saving the world was a big goddamn deal.

Radek was the exact opposite. Where he exploded out, Radek turned inside, withdrawing until almost nothing of substance was visible. Where he got loud and messy, Radek became silent and intense. Where he wanted people around to hand tools, shoot enemies, act as sounding boards, even if uncomprehending ones, Radek turned his back to the room, the hunch of his shoulders radiating need for privacy so strongly that most people took the hint and stayed away.

In fact, the only person Radek appeared to tolerate around him in times like these was Rodney himself. Whether it was because Rodney was simply very good at ignoring social cues, or because Radek genuinely didn’t mind his presence, he didn’t know.

What he did know with painful certainty was that seeing Radek like that, all quiet efficiency and clever, sure hands, was sort of… hot. So hot that Rodney had to casually excuse himself on several occasions and go find something less dangerous to do. Like play with matches and weapons-grade plutonium.

The more time Rodney spent trying to find out what Radek could possibly want for Christmas, the more hesitant he felt – about everything.

But he persevered. There were… _things_ at stake here, dammit, and Rodney McKay never accepted anything short of perfection.

Eventually it paid off. One day in the lunch line, while contemplating the relative merits of mystery meat casserole and bland looking root vegetable soup, he overheard a stray childhood memory Radek was sharing with Teyla. And right then and there, the soup ladle still dangling from his numb fingers, a stupid, inspired, risky, completely over-the-top idea was born.

Rodney dropped his tray on the counter and strode out. He had work to do.

 

***

 

Radek spent the next three months trying to hide from Rodney. It got increasingly difficult as the weeks went by because for some inexplicable reason the man kept popping up everywhere.

When he wasn’t avoiding his superior, Radek was resolutely avoiding his own thoughts. They kept returning to said superior and the present that was making its way through space, bound for the Pegasus galaxy and, what he could now see, was going to be an incredibly embarrassing gift exchange.

Even though the whole thing was a secret for now, it was unlikely to stay that way. Besides, McKay wasn’t the head of science for nothing, he would be able to figure out eventually who was behind the gift and when he did… Well, Radek better have a believable, safe reason at ready.

The problem was that ever since Daedalus had left for Earth he had actually started thinking about the reasons behind his choice. And the more he thought, the more uncomfortable he became.

Most days he fluctuated violently between fervently hoping that his request had been granted and feeling nauseous at the thought that it had been. When he’d first seen Rodney’s name on the slip of paper the idea had come to him straightaway. It was so simple.

Of course the _execution_ had been far from simple, but Radek had done everything he could think of to make it happen.

Which was exactly where the edge of uncomfortable started. He had gone to a _lot_ of trouble for one Christmas present. He could have got Rodney some new hardware or software or special coffee or alcohol or chocolate or… well pretty much anything edible.

Instead he’d got him a present that practically screamed ‘unprofessional feelings’.

Radek glanced at the calendar. T-minus-three-days before all bets were off.

 

***

 

The party was a huge success. The noise could be heard several levels down. Of course, it wasn’t like people had a choice of social gatherings to pick from. You either went to the big Christmas/holiday-of-your-choice party or sat alone in your lab and played FreeCell.

After twenty games Rodney finally shut down his laptop. Sure he’d solved the latest one in less than thirty seconds, but the plans for increased puddlejumper engine efficiency were definitely not progressing. In fact – he squinted at the writing on the whiteboard – it looked like he might have actually taken their research several steps in the wrong direction.

Zelenka would enjoy that a bit too much. There would be quiet smiles and pointed comments about western education. Best to…

Rodney wiped the board clean and looked around for anything else to distract him. The grumble in his stomach did the job so, with a deep breath, he walked out and headed for the party.

“Rodney!” Sheppard’s friendly slap on the back dislodged a sprout from his mouth. It flew several feet in a beautiful arch and landed in Kavanaugh’s eggnog.

“Like he needed another reason to hate me.” Rodney muttered as they casually but quickly made their way toward the other end of the room.

“Sorry. Zelenka said you were still in the lab and that if you didn’t show up soon someone should go down there and drag you out. I and my holiday spirit…” Sheppard sloshed some clear liquid around in the glass before taking an unhealthy swig, “…thank you for saving everyone the trouble. Cheers and Merry Christmas!” With another bone-jarring pat on the back he walked off towards Teyla who was teaching a group of _very_ interested looking marines some sort of Athosian dance that involved a lot of bending from the waist.

“Hey, wait! What exactly did Radek say?” But the Colonel was already halfway across the dance floor.

The party reminded Rodney of the number of office and faculty social functions he’d had to attend in his time; there was food and drink and everyone you knew acting in a way that made you think perhaps you didn’t know them that well after all – or that you’d like to get to know them a lot better.

Elizabeth was dancing in a group of women that included some of the brightest minds in two Galaxies and was that…? Yes, Dr. Heightmeyer doing the funky chicken like there was no tomorrow.

The sight made Rodney choke on his mashed potatoes. Surely the APA frowned on psychologists being the _cause_ of therapy.

“Yes, but is oddly attractive too.” There was another hand whacking him on the shoulder blades.

“That’s what scares me the most.” Zelenka’s arm was still resting on his back, warm and solid, so when Rodney turned around they ended up in a half-embrace.

“I worry I have to come and mock your equations to get you to leave them and join us.” Radek was wearing brown corduroy pants, a soft rusty-red coloured sweater with a long-sleeved white tee under it. He looked really good.

He smelled fantastic. Rodney took a not-so-subtle sniff; cranberry cake and cinnamon rolls. His mouth watered. Because of the desserts. Right.

“Oh?” Rodney was feeling a bit breathless and clutching the plate to his chest. The other man still hadn’t let go of his shoulder.

“People want to see their fearless leader. Many are unable to relax when they think you are hard at work.”

“Right, well.” Of course, people needed to see the head of scientific division having fun. Rodney backed away and hurriedly stuffed a large piece of turkey into his mouth. “They don’t seem to have trouble with it any other time of the year.”

Zelenka’s arm slid off and hung almost forlornly at his side. He looked like he was going to say something else but Elizabeth’s voice interrupted them both.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” She was standing on one of the tables holding a flute of champagne. Major Lorne was keeping a steadying hand on the edge of the table and a solicitous eye on her legs.

At the sight of her the members of the Atlantis expedition burst into spontaneous applause and whistles. Even Rodney found himself clapping furiously; somehow it seemed like the only thing to do.

 “Ladies and Gentlemen, please.” She tried again, with a huge grin on her face. Slowly the noise died down. “As a career diplomat and negotiator I have attended countless parties and made probably hundreds of speeches. For years, words have been the main tool of my job.”

The crowd settled down to listen.

 “But today, standing here in front of you all, I find that words desert me.” She looked serious for a moment and then smiled. “Which I’m sure will come as a relief to those of you who haven’t made it to the bar yet. So I shan’t hold up the festivities for long.”

“I just wanted to say that I have never been more proud of anyone than I am of you. The dedication and the hard work that each and every one of you have shown during this last year make it a privilege to be part of something this amazing. I know it hasn’t been easy. There have been bitter losses and sacrifices that should not have been necessary.”

 People kept their eyes on her; not looking at the faces that were missing.

 “But we have made it this far and we will make it to the end.” She raised her glass in a toast. “To the Atlantis expedition. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

 “To the Atlantis expedition!” The room echoed with the shout as everyone lifted whatever they were holding and drank deeply.

 “And now, as I believe we have all been very, _very_ good this year …” At a sign from Weir Lorne hoisted the first of three enormous sacks to the table. “…the gifts!” A drunken cheer made the glassware vibrate.

 “Santa couldn’t make it all the way to the Pegasus galaxy but he sent his special helper. Dr. McKay, if you could do the honours!”

 The laughter and catcalls followed Rodney as he made his way to the centre of the room. He felt his cheeks grow warm but found that he didn’t actually mind so much. The jeering was good-natured and friendly. Besides, if playing Santa got him away from Zelenka’s searching eyes for a few moments then hand him the hat and let him do it.

Someone did. A red hat was pulled over his head while Lorne passed him the first sack. Without further ceremony Rodney picked the first package from the pile and started reading out nametags.

“Jacobsen, Solaiman, Ronon…”

By the time he spotted his envelope to Radek, he’d calmed down enough to be able to shout “Zelenka!” with only the tiniest catch in his voice.

Rodney gave it to Radek’s waiting hand without making eye contact. Luckily a lot of other people had also gone for the letter-size presents so the envelope didn’t particularly stand out.

Finally all the gifts were distributed. Rodney absently fingered his own. It too seemed to consist of nothing more than a folded sheet of paper.

He kept casting looks on Zelenka’s direction without trying to be too obvious. Oh God, what if he read it out loud and people guessed who it was and then they would start to speculate on the _what_ and _why_ and… Oh shit, shit, fuck. Radek was tearing the envelope open.

He was mildly disappointed when nothing drastic happened. Zelenka turned slightly away from others so Rodney couldn’t see his expression. He did seem to take an awful long time to read the few lines of text but when he turned back toward the room, his face was schooled to a carefully neutral smile that gave absolutely nothing away.

“Come on McKay, what did you get?”

 “Yeah, inquiring minds want to know!”

Sheppard’s shout was soon taken up and, grateful for anything that drew his attention away from Radek, Rodney gave into the demands.

> _Rodney,  
> Your gift is still on the Daedalus for necessary reasons. Contact them to have it transported down. It might be a good idea to have Dr. O’Farrell nearby, just in case._   
> _Merry Christmas and thank you for everything.  
> A Friend._

Rodney frowned. What possible ‘necessary reasons’ could there be for the present to still be aboard the ship. And why would he need O’Farrell…

“Dr. McKay, I believe my presence may be required.” A stocky fifty-something man with greying hair and a cheerful smile had appeared at his side as if summoned.

“Mike.” Rodney greeted him. “Care to explain this to me? Is this from you?”

The other man guffawed, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “No, it is not. And if you just contact the Daedalus, all will be revealed.”

Feeling apprehensive but curious despite himself, Rodney tapped his radio and asked the control room to patch him through to the ship, which was orbiting the planet under a cloak.

“Dr. Novak here. How may I help you?” Her voice came through steady and clear. The woman had finally gotten her space-legs after several roundtrips between Earth and Atlantis.

“Er… Hello, it’s Dr. McKay. I… Well, this may sound a bit weird but--”

“Ah yes, your Christmas gift. Everything is in order. Do you have sufficient room at your current location for us to beam it down there?”

Rodney looked about; his mystery present had attracted quite a crowd. At least three-dozen people, including his team, Elizabeth and quite a few scientists, were standing in a loose circle around him. Zelenka was on the edge of the group. Rodney tried to catch his eyes but the bland mask of joviality was still firmly in place and his gaze stayed glued to the drink in his hand.

“Er… yes, I guess so.” This was officially the weirdest Christmas present he had ever received, including the purple knitted floppy-disk holder his great-aunt had given him when he was twenty-five. He’d stretched it over the years and now it was roomy enough to hold several memory sticks and his spare hard drive.

With an air of anticipation the crowd stepped back. There was a bright flash of light accompanied by a familiar whooshing sound and something that looked like a miniature stasis pod materialised on the floor. Rodney craned his neck to see better but was reluctant to go any closer.

Dr. O’Farrell however had no such scruples. Confidently he strode over, knelt by the pod, opened the lid and bent over the white-orange something stirring inside. Rodney’s heart started to pound. It couldn’t be…

He felt faint. It was impossible. He had asked before shipping out. He had begged and wheedled and thrown tantrums but the answer had always been the same. It was too risky, waste of resources, there was no room.

But O’Farrell, who in addition to his expertise in exobiology was a fully qualified veterinary doctor, was standing up with a small furry thing in his arms. He turned around to face Rodney and everyone else with a wide smile on his lips.

“He’s okay. A bit disoriented but that’s to be expected after a month in stasis.”

Rodney heard none of it, saw no one else. Because there, blinking slowly and looking around himself with flattened ears, was…

“Albert!” The cat recognised its name and, Rodney liked to think, its owner’s voice even after all this time. The yellow eyes cleared a bit more, a pink mouth opened and a tiny little “meow” could be heard.

Rodney was over there in two quick steps, sweeping Albert into his arms.

“Oh my little Albie. Daddy missed you so much, yes he did. Come here you pudding cup…” Hugging the cat to his chest Rodney made his way to the door, party all but forgotten.

A chorus of ‘awwws’ (mostly from the women) and scattered sniggers (mostly from the marines and Sheppard who was shaking with hilarity) followed him out of the room. Rodney heard nothing but Albert’s purr as a soft feline head rubbed against his chin.

He definitely didn’t see Radek, now leaning against the back wall with a smile wide enough to split his face.

***

It was possibly for the best that the rest of the reunion took place in privacy of Rodney’s quarters. There were tears (Rodney, although he’d never admit it), nervous peeing (Albert, and neither would he) and running around frantically looking for food and anything to double as a litter box (both). There were also a number of intervals when the crying and peeing and running around were put on hold while Rodney stood in the middle of the floor, holding an ecstatically purring cat to his chest.

All in all, it was a highly emotional time for both and neither the man nor the cat was at their best.

It was only several hours later as Albert, now fed and cuddled within and inch of his life, curled on the bed to sleep, that Rodney started to wonder about the person behind the gift.

Giving the cat one final scratch behind the ears, he got up and rummaged through his jacket pockets. Fishing out the rumpled sheet of paper he smoothed it out and reread it.

Nothing. No hints that he could decipher. 'A Friend’ was as impersonal as it got. Thanking him was perhaps a bit unconventional on a Christmas letter but again it gave no clues. He had saved pretty much the whole of Atlantis on more than one occasion so really it could be anyone.

The note was typed so no handwriting to exam-- Hold on. Why would anyone bother typing and printing a short message like that? It’s not like he was an expert on handwriting or even seen most people’s cursive, except of course--

Rodney sat down on the bed with a thump, startling Albert who expressed disapproval by sinking its claws into Rodney’s thigh.

Except, there _was_ someone whose handwriting Rodney knew as well as his own by now. After all, he saw it scrawled on the whiteboard every day, numbers and symbols drawn with surprisingly wide loops that got bigger the more excited the man wielding the pen became.

Radek.

It would have taken some doing, to get the permission to ship Albert to Atlantis. Radek would have undoubtedly been able to do it; the little Czech was extremely resourceful… and stubborn.

God, he hoped he was right and not just getting carried away by his own wishes.

He would know for certain tomorrow.

  
***

The temperature had plummeted over the last couple of weeks and Radek could see his breath form little white clouds the moment he walked out of the puddlejumper. Lieutenant Mansell shouted at him to radio in if he needed picking up then gave a quick wave from the cockpit before closing the hatch and heading back to the city. She had been happy to ferry him to the mainland on a few hours notice and something in her smile told Radek that she knew more than she let on. 

Well, here he was, as instructed. He looked at the note again, but it was as short as yesterday, giving only a date, time and a set of coordinates. The place was right; Lieutenant Mansell had found the landing site with suspicious ease. And, Radek consulted his watch, the time should also be correct.

“Excuse me, Dr. Zelenka?” A melodic and distinctively female voice called behind him. Radek bit back a sigh of disappointment. He’d been so sure… He’d spent an hour by the lab whiteboard last night, squinting at the equations, trying to see if the number three on the board matched the one on the paper. Wishful thinking obviously.

“Yes, hello.” He turned around and came to face to face with…

A complete stranger. Well, perhaps not complete; he vaguely remembered seeing her around before.

“My name is Leenas. I am here to guide you to your…” She hesitated with the foreign term. “…Christmas present.”

Ah, that explained it. Or not.

Without another word Leenas turned around and beckoned him to follow.

Despite it being only late afternoon the light was receding fast and he was grateful for the row of torches illuminating the path. It was actually very pretty, if cold. Radek pulled the jacket tighter around him.

They walked for a long time, the snow crunching under their feet.

He started feeling hopeful again. Last night, at the party, he was pretty sure there had been a—a moment. He cringed inwardly at the word, but it was the best way of describing it.

Rodney had been his usual rumpled fidgety self as he walked into the room, heading straight to the buffet. Radek had watched him hoard a plateful of food, speak with people and absentmindedly ogle the women on the dance floor, all the while looking like he was made to suffer through a root canal instead of small-talk and amateur entertainment.

Radek hadn’t planned on talking to him; too risky, too difficult to keep from saying anything, just too everything.

Yet, somehow, he’d found himself standing next to Rodney; right next to him with a hand on his broad shoulders. And then Rodney had turned and Radek hadn’t taken his hand away and there had been a moment.

The look on Rodney’s face when he was reunited with his cat had been everything and more than he had hoped for. It was an expression of pure unadulterated joy, close but better than the one he got when making previously dead machinery work again. This time there had been nothing to fix afterwards, no lives to save, no other responsibilities to deal with.

Radek had watched him fuss and coo over the dazed feline and although it had been funny and even sort of touching, it had also been a relief beyond words. After Arcturus he hadn’t been sure Rodney would ever be able to be happy like that again.

And he was the reason for it. Well Albert directly, but him too. Standing there in the middle of a rowdy party, hiding his emotions behind a glass of wine, Radek had discovered that he would very much like to be able to put that happy, carefree expression on Rodney’s face again. As often as possible.

“Ooomph!” Radek had been too caught up in his thoughts to notice Leenas coming to a sudden stop and walked straight into her. “God, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” He flushed with embarrassment.

“I am fine,” Leenas said with that serene smile all Athosian women were apparently born wearing; the one that said ‘I am fully aware that you are a middle-aged man acting like a love-fool teenager who almost ploughed me into a snowdrift but I am going to be gracious about the whole escapade and change the subject now.’ “We are here,” Leenas extended her fur-clad arm and pointed behind him.

Radek turned to look and saw nothing but a snow-covered hillside, the path winding its way up until disappearing out of sight.

“You can find the rest of the way yourself, just follow the trail.” She grabbed his hands in both of hers, briefly touching their foreheads together.

“I wish you joy and peace, Dr. Zelenka. May you find warmth amidst the cold, light amidst the darkness, and friends to share in both,” Leenas nodded toward the hill, beyond which Radek could indeed see a glow of light much brighter than the flickering torches.

He mumbled something much less elegant in return, too distracted and nervous to mind his manners. Had she been alive to see it, Babička would have clipped his ears but good for being this rude, and Radek was willing to bet that she was sorely tempted even beyond the grave. Unfortunately he was completely incapable of doing anything about it.

Luckily, Leenas didn’t seem to mind. If anything, her smile got only wider. “Go on. I believe you have been patient enough already.”

With a hasty wave of thanks to his guide Radek followed the meandering path upwards.

As hills went, it was a fairly modest one and before long Radek was on the top, then over it and then--

“Můj ty bože!”

Then he was grinning from ear to ear, unable to hold back a whoop of laughter, half-running, half-skidding downhill.

Because at the bottom, in the low valley surrounded by scraggly evergreens and wooden railing stood a perfectly proportioned ice rink. And in the middle of that a lone figure was skating in a sloppy figure eight formation, lazily passing a puck back and forth in front of him.

Hearing his wordless shout, Rodney waved his stick in a clumsy greeting and waited for Radek to get down.

Radek came to a halt at the edge of the ice, sliding a little on the slippery surface. He spread his hands and spun around, taking a panoramic view of his present.

Rodney glided slowly closer, his movements surprisingly graceful if a bit nervous. It had obviously been some time since he’d last tried balancing on anything thinner than size 45 army boots.

“So, er, Merry Christmas.” Rodney’s eyes flitted briefly up to Radek’s face before they clearly found something more interesting to look at in the dark forest over his shoulder.

“This is— I— How did you—” The longer it took Radek to form a coherent sentence, the more uncomfortable Rodney appeared, skates making little scraping noises as he somehow managed to fidget on them.

Enough was enough. Radek took a deep breath and shook Rodney by the shoulders, effectively bringing the other man’s attention back to him.

There really was only one way to even the score here. Whether it would actually end the awkwardness or increase it exponentially, he wasn’t sure yet. Radek forced the question out nevertheless. “Did you like _your_ present?”

“You…?” Rodney blinked.

A short nod of confirmation from him; Rodney’s expression melted into a mixture of relief, joy and smugness very similar to the one he got after orchestrating a last minute save from certain doom with some preposterous but undoubtedly brilliant idea.

And exactly like those times, the smugness very quickly became dominant. “Ha! I knew it! It was the handwriting. Or, to be precise, the lack of it. Plus the sheer ingenuity and pigheadedness it would have taken to organise it. When I…”

Rodney didn’t hand out compliments often and when he did they were inevitably vague and potentially insulting. That had never stopped the warm feeling spreading throughout Radek’s body and filling his chest with pride and happiness and nameless hope.

He interrupted Rodney’s monologue about the intergalactic live-cargo regulations, of which he, somewhat surprisingly, appeared to know a great deal. “How is Albert?”

Rodney’s face softened at the name. “He’s perfect. He’s… he’s home, Radek. Thank you.”

Radek smiled, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. “And this. This is like _coming_ home.”

And it was. The smell of ice and timber took him back to long afternoons of his childhood, and he could almost hear the familiar _thunk_ of a hockey puck hitting the sides and the excited cadence of his father’s voice, congratulating him on a goal well-made.

“Well, it…” Rodney made a dismissing wave with his hands before straightening up. “Now, we can either stand here admiring my flawless design and Athosian craftmanship some more or…”

“Or what?”

“Or we can play some hockey.”

Radek grinned. It wasn’t a difficult choice. “You have skates?”

“Well, I have a spare pair of these.” Rodney said, pointing to his feet. “They’re more like attachable blades with three-sixty bindings and fully retractable…”

 

***

 

After two twenty-minute periods they were taking the second break of the game. Rodney had set up his alarm to mark the time and Radek had originally regarded such adherence to the rules only appropriate. Now though…

The score had settled on a highly irritating 1-1 after the first fifteen minutes and stayed there ever since. Rodney and Radek were slumped over the railing, exhausted and out of breath.

“As much as it pains me to suggest this, I think we’re going to have to call it a draw.” Rodney was balancing on one foot, leaning half against the wooden rink side, half against Radek, attempting to remove his not-quite skates. “And perhaps just forget about the final period for now?”

Radek bent over and poked at the release mechanism. “I am inclined to agree.”

Once they were both steady on their feet again, Rodney dug a thermos out of his bag. Steam curled up from the ruby-coloured liquid, drawing the two men closer under the cloud of fragrant heat.

“Teyla had some spices she thought would work, and, well...” Rodney passed him a cup. “It’s not quite Svařák…” Radek raised his eyebrows, surprised Rodney even knew the word. “…Nor exactly like Glogg. Pretty good though.”

It was. Strong too. Radek could feel the warmth pool in his belly and spread out in waves, finally blooming across his cheeks. Rodney didn’t seem to be faring any better.

God, they’d become such cheap drunks. Two years in Atlantis, where alcohol was always difficult to come by and freedom to enjoy it even more so, had somehow completely undone all natural born resistance.

Radek grinned suddenly. The wine was providing an excuse for the idea that the flush on Rodney’s cheeks and the sight of him chasing a stray droplet with his tongue had already put in his mind.

“It is a shame.” Putting the mug down, Radek took a casual step backwards.

“What is?”

“Cutting the game short. After all, national pride is at stake.” He drifted nearer to the end of the bench, the pristine white ground irresistibly tempting, and crouched a bit under the pretence of wiping snow off his trousers. “Of course, hockey, while a great and noble sport, is not a sufficient battle ground for men of our standing.”

Rodney set his drink aside, eyes narrowing in suspicion. He crossed his arms in a defensive move that was both obvious and entirely unconscious. “Oh? And may I ask what the great Dr. Zelenka deems worth— Ooomph!”

Whatever Rodney was about to say next was forgotten in favour of colourful cursing when a hastily formed snowball hit him squarely in the face.

“Zelenka! You wily, backstabbing, son of a—”

“Yes, yes, I am evil incarnate. But that does not change the fact that the score is now 1-0. To me.”

Rodney closed his mouth with an almost audible snap, scooped down to get some snow and started advancing slowly. Radek swallowed, suddenly nervous. Out of the two of them Rodney had considerably more field experience and all that time spent dodging arrows, rocks and stun gun beams gave him an unfair advantage.

Radek turned on his heels and ran, but not before gathering more snow with both hands. He was going down fighting.

Keeping score soon became impossible. Radek stifled a slightly hysterical giggle as he crept around the tree, spying Rodney some ten metres away, his back presenting an ideal target.

Snowballs in both fists, Radek charged.

Distracted by the prospect of imminent victory, he miscalculated both his velocity and the lack of surface friction. So when Rodney turned around at the last second, his face slack with surprise, Radek could do nothing but squeak in a highly undignified manner.

They went down in a flurry of flailing arms, Rodney’s fall softened by the deep snow while Radek’s own landing was somewhat better cushioned by Rodney’s broad chest.

The silence stretched for several moments.

Cautiously Radek lifted his head. Rodney was making odd hiccupping sounds and for a split second Radek feared he’d injured himself.

But no, it was simply laughter; joyful and carefree and impossible to resist. So he didn’t. They were both wet and cold and laughing like crazy in a snowdrift on an alien world in a galaxy far, far away, and he couldn’t remember being happier. It felt like coming home.

Radek though about little orange cats and sliding across smooth ice on not-quite skates, about days and nights spent side-by-side, arguing and working and creating miracles, and when he couldn’t think past the sweet up-curl of Rodney’s lips anymore, he kissed him.

It should have been awkward, considering the kind of men they were, but instead it was like puzzle pieces slotting into place.

Underneath him Rodney moaned, pulling him closer, lips parting hungrily. He tasted like winter, fresh snow and honey-laced wine; and underneath that, something earthy, like a hint of spring just around the corner, like Rodney himself.

Radek wanted to burrow in, to wrap himself in all that warmth and never leave, his fingers making tiny clutching motions at Rodney’s jacket, desperate for more contact.

They kissed for a long time, lips swollen and tongues twining together like a promise, before finally slowing down. Despite the heat building up between them, the chill of the evening was starting to penetrate. Radek climbed to his feet, extending a hand down to Rodney and heaving him up too.

Sporting identical smiles, shy but heartfelt, they ambled back toward the pile of gear Rodney had left by the rink.

After everything was packed Radek cleared his throat. “Rodney, I have two questions.”

The other man shifted, but not away. “Shoot.”

“How are we supposed to get back to Atlantis? The Athosian settlement is some distance from here and while I enjoy a brisk walk as well as the next man…” He glanced at Rodney, who was standing beside him, stomping his feet to keep warm, “…which is to say, not a lot, I am sad to report that I cannot really feel my toes anymore.” He tried wiggling them experimentally and only got a faint tingling sensation for his trouble.

“The only thing wrong with hockey is that it’s played on _ice_.” Rodney tugged off one of his gloves with his teeth and slipped a hand inside his parka. “Not to worry. As usual, I have a plan for every contingency.”

He rummaged around his jacket before pulling out a radio and clicking it on. “Mansell, do you receive? This is McKay. We’re ready to go.” After a few seconds of intense listening Rodney nodded in satisfaction. “McKay out.”

Radek shook his head in rueful amusement. He should’ve guessed she was involved somehow; as a rule pretty young women didn’t wink at Radek without a good reason.

“Mansell was spending her evening with the Athosians, one of whom she is, and I quote: ‘damned fond of so stop being an ass and shut up’”. Rodney offered by way of explanation. “She’ll be here in ten minutes.”

Raked chuckled, tipping his head back. Above him the sky was alight with millions of stars, and between them, unseen, planets full of life.

“What’s the other one?” Rodney was nudging his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“The other question. You said you had two.”

“Yes. So I did.”

Even now it was a risk and Radek had never been very good with those. Sure, the kisses had been… Well. He didn’t think there was a word in English _or_ Czech to describe how exactly they had made him feel, but be that as it may, they didn’t necessarily _mean_ anything. Although, when you added them to the fact that Rodney had built him an _ice hockey rink_ for Christmas, and, well, the whole thing with Albert, which had sort of surprised even him, they—

“Uh. Hello?” Rodney was waving a hand in front of his face, fingertips turning pale blue in the wind.

Radek made up his mind and grabbed hold of it on the third passing. “I wanted to ask…”

“Yes?” Rodney’s eyes were a bit wide, their colour indistinguishable in the dusk. He made no effort to remove his hand.

Radek drew courage from the way his own was slowly growing as numb as his toes from the force of Rodney’s grip. “Do you have any more of the Athosian mulled wine?”

Rodney opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. “I… Yeah, sure, yes.” He took a step back quickly, posture visibly tensing, and dropped Radek’s hand. “That’s what you wanted to ask me? If I had more wine?”

“No! Yes!” Rodney was withdrawing with alarming speed. Physically he was not much further away than a second ago but in every way that mattered he was no longer really there, body closing off as fast as it had opened for Radek earlier in the snowdrift.

“Wait!” Radek reached out, voice high with panic, fingers grasping at Rodney’s jacket. “What I meant was that I should like to share some more of it. With you. To, uh, ward off cold. Because I get cold a lot, Rodney, out here, and it is worse when you’re alone, and I thought maybe—”

The rest of the sentence was swallowed by Rodney’s mouth, hot and determined and chasing away insecurities. “I think” _kiss_ “that’s an excellent” _kiss_ “idea, although…”

“What?” Rodney’s grin took his breath away. It would’ve been embarrassing, except he was too exhilarated to care. Not to mention more than a little turned on.

 “Well, two geniuses like us can surely come up with plenty of other ways of keeping warm. That is, if you’re interested?”

Radek made sure his answering kiss left Rodney in no doubt about that.


End file.
